Azurene says I was a happy child. I have to take her word for it because the boy she's describing feels like a stranger I read about in someone else's journal.
She remembers the laughing, the sneaking out, the girl with lightning at her heels. I remember the facts; who I needed, what they'd become, how many people I'd have to lie to before the lying started feeling like breathing.
But she's right that it started with the wall. It always starts with a wall you're not supposed to climb.
Though if I'm being honest, it started before the wall. It really started with a boar.
The head had been staring at me all evening.
Dead eyes glazed over with honey, an apple stuffed between its tusks, sitting on a platter the size of a small boat. The servants had wheeled it in like conquering heroes presenting a slain enemy. Twenty pounds of roasted pork surrounded by arrangements of fruit and vegetables carved into flowers.
I was eight years old and fairly certain I would die of boredom before the second course arrived.
"Valerian." Father's voice rumbled from the head of the table, soft as distant thunder. "Sit straight."
I corrected my posture automatically. Beside me, Azurene shifted on my shoulder, her small claws pricking through the silk of my formal robes. She was the length of my arm from snout to tail-tip, scales white as fresh snow with traces of pale blue along her spine. At eight years old, she was still small enough to perch comfortably, though the weight of her was solid, a constant pressure that reminded me I was never truly alone.
Bored, she pressed through our bond. Not words exactly. More like the feeling of boredom given shape, a yawning emptiness that matched my own.
I know, I sent back. Three more courses.
The great dining hall of the Azure palace stretched around us, all carved pillars and hanging banners in blue and white. Candles flickered in silver chandeliers. Servants moved like ghosts along the walls, appearing to refill wine goblets and vanishing again. Two hundred guests filled the long tables below the royal dais, lords and ladies of the Azure Drakon court, their Anima arranged behind them like living decorations.
I watched a griffin preen its feathers while its human discussed grain tariffs. A pair of wolves lay curled at the feet of a northern count. Somewhere in the hall, a peacock squawked.
At the royal table, we were arranged in order of birth.
Aldric sat at Father's right hand. Eighteen years old, handsome in the way paintings were handsome, his drake Igneous curled like a small mountain behind his chair. The drake couldn't fit inside most rooms, so Igneous typically waited outside. Tonight was a formal occasion, though, so he'd squeezed his massive form through the doors and now radiated heat that made servants give that section of the dais a wide berth.
Aldric was nodding along to whatever Lord Whitmore was saying about border patrols. He looked genuinely interested. I couldn't tell if that was impressive or depressing.
Next came Caelum, fourteen and already wearing his charm like armor. His horned serpent Verdina draped across the back of his chair, scales shifting between deep indigo and poisonous green in the candlelight. Caelum caught me looking and smiled. The smile said little brother in a way that made it sound like an insult.
Celeste, twelve, sat between Caelum and me. Or rather, her body occupied the chair between us. Celeste herself seemed to be somewhere else entirely, eyes focused on nothing, eating mechanically, her wyvern Argentis perched behind her with the same distant stare. I'd never seen them communicate, not once. They were the quietest bond in the palace.
Then me, Valerian. Third son. Fourth child. The one who had no particular role yet except to exist as a spare.
And finally, at the far end of the dais in a specially raised chair, my youngest sister.
Iris was seven years old. She had a glob of mashed potato on her nose and was dropping food onto the floor where Halcyon, her qilin, barely larger than a cat at this age, ate whatever fell with delicate, careful bites.
I watched a carrot slide off her plate. Halcyon caught it before it hit the ground.
Freedom, I thought enviously. Real freedom.
Iris looked up and met my eyes. For a moment, something passed between us, some recognition that we were both trapped at this table, both wanting to be anywhere else. Then she grinned, showing her baby teeth, and pushed another carrot off her plate.
I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing.
"The eastern border remains secure, Your Majesty," Lord Whitmore was droning. "Though we've had reports of increased beast activity near the Thornwood. Nothing our patrols can't handle, but..."
"Father." Aldric's voice cut through smoothly, with that effortless authority he seemed to have been born with. "Perhaps we should discuss reinforcing the Thornwood garrison before the merchant season begins. The caravans will need clear roads."
Father nodded. His dragon Aurellia, a serpentine giant of deep silver and white scales, lay coiled behind the dais in a space that had been designed specifically for her. She could have stretched the entire length of the dining hall if she wanted. Instead, she kept her massive form compact, her amber eyes half-lidded, radiating a warmth that had nothing to do with temperature.
Vhagar Azure, King of the Azure Drakon, looked every inch the gentle mountain. Broad shoulders, weathered face, grey streaking through hair that had once been the same white-blue as mine. He wore his power like an old coat: comfortable, familiar, something he didn't think about anymore.
"A sound suggestion," Father said. "Aldric, coordinate with General Kang. I want a full report by week's end."
"Yes, Father."
I slumped in my chair. Azurene's tail curled around my wrist.
Boring, she agreed.
The second course arrived. Pheasant stuffed with chestnuts. Somewhere in the hall, a lord laughed too loudly at his own joke.
I thought about the gap in the palace wall.